


Flamethrower

by westwingfanfictioncentral_archivist



Category: The West Wing
Genre: Episode Tag, Episode: s04e17 Red Haven's On Fire
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2003-04-26
Updated: 2003-04-26
Packaged: 2019-05-31 03:26:51
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 690
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15110831
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/westwingfanfictioncentral_archivist/pseuds/westwingfanfictioncentral_archivist
Summary: 'I knew I was gonna get creamed... so why's it feel like this?'





	Flamethrower

**Author's Note:**

> A copy of this work was once archived at National Library, a part of the [ West Wing Fanfiction Central](https://fanlore.org/wiki/West_Wing_Fanfiction_Central), a West Wing fanfiction archive. More information about the Open Doors approved archive move can be found in the [announcement post](http://archiveofourown.org/admin_posts/8325).

**Flamethrower**  
**by:** Kasey

**Character(s):** Sam  
**Category(s):** POST-EP: The Red Mass, spoilers assumed for all eps thus far.  
**Rating:** TEEN  
**Disclaimer:** Don't own 'em. If I did, I'd be paying him the damn money if only so I could keep writing his posteps.  
**Summary:** "I knew I was gonna get creamed...so why's it feel like this?"  


This was the deal that was made. 

It was-...it was my condition for doing this. It was the only way I was gonna run - if Will didn't announce my name until after Horton Wilde had won, which wasn't supposed to happen, and if I got to quit for ninety days to go lose in a humiliating show of Republicanism and name-calling, only to return to my job. 

Except it didn't go quite as planned. Now Will has my job and is... apparently... ready to kick the ass of four poor intern girls who don't know what they're doing - and shouldn't be expected to, it's a tough job and I'm not saying interns can't be smart, I'm saying they're in college and don't necessarily have the expertise necessary for the job. 

I'm saying I don't know that I have the expertise necessary and I've done this for awhile. 

The point is that I was always supposed to lose. And Josh promised I wouldn't look like a joke, and for the most part I didn't, he said I wouldn't be embarassed and actually until their trip I hadn't been too badly, it's just... 

It was supposed to end like this. 

I knew I was gonna get creamed. 

...So why's it feel like this? 

Why's it feel like I've just ultimately and completely failed? 

I mean let's not kid ourselves, it's not as though it was a hotly contested campaign - they gave up on me the second I showed up there, I was the President's writing geek who was too liberal for the damn staff, I didn't stand a chance in Orange County. It's why I *left* the place when I was eighteen to begin with. 

...But it feels like-...Somehow I had deluded myself into thinking maybe I stood more than a snowball's chance in hell and now I feel like this? 

Or maybe it's just because Toby said he wanted to stand beside me as they threw rocks at me. 

God I've missed him. Josh, too - wish I could've seen more of him - and CJ...and Leo...the President... 

I missed feeling like I could screw up a little thing and unless it was on national television or, I dunno, sleeping with a call girl, I could get it back tomorrow. I could have only one good moment while staffing the president all day and it was fine - no major problem. 

I missed the cameraderie. Considering how many people I know out here, it's... incredibly lonely. Mostly because the people I know are parents of the kids I avoided during school. 

I missed my job- 

See? But that's something to look forward to. 

Senior Counsellor to the President, Sam Seaborn. 

And it's...it's a lot of what I want. My job is to-...to persuade him. To tell him why what I think is right, not to write addresses that interns are apparently capable of writing. To come up with ideas and then convince him why he has to agree with me - for his career...for his conscience... 

But I don't get to convince anyone else of that - I don't get to write the speeches to draw in the nation and then tell THEM why they need to believe what we're saying is right. 

I just get to say it to the President - which, while it's an honour, yes...it's preaching to the choir. 

I don't get to send out sparks anymore. 

I'm no longer the flamethrower. 

So I stand here and lose miserably, Toby at my side as they throw rocks at my head because half of them hate me and the other half want to put me out of my misery. 

I should've known it would feel like this...but I didn't. 

I guess I'm too much the optimist. 

-fin- 


End file.
